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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167832">It Warrants the Nice Soaps</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic'>madrastic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>14 Day Quarantine [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work, Weak Constitution: Common Cat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Begging, Demons, Familiars, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Past Abuse, Penis In Vagina Sex, Shyness, Wall Sex, fucked up magic society</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:40:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day that had turned into a few overnight stays at their office, Beck comes home to a slight problem. Luckily for them, it's nothing that they can't fix with a little TLC.</p><p>Day 12: Wall Sex</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beck Lyza/Scathan, Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>14 Day Quarantine [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>14 Day Quarantine, Weak Constitution Extended Universe</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Warrants the Nice Soaps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Dragon/gifts">Awkward_Dragon</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Poor Scathan, he just can't seem to catch a break!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Beck was having a day. A very long, tiring day. A very long, tiring day that never ended. They were more than exhausted when they entered their house, tugging off their shoes and dropping their keys into the little key bowl Scathan had begun </span>
  <em>
    <span>insisting</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they use. It was probably related to when Beck lost their keys in the house for the fourth time in as many days, resulting in a relatively intense scavenger hunt for those accursed metal things. They should just enchant them to their hand at this point. It would save them both some time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scathan!” They called out, loud enough that they could be heard throughout the house. “I’m home!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response. It was quiet in the house. Not that it was odd for it to be quiet, Scathan was a demon not known for his noise production. If Beck was being practical, he was likely just sleeping on some cushions somewhere in the house, waiting for the timer to ding and tell him when he needed to take something out of the oven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a rumbling stomach, Beck shrugged off their outercoat and moved to the kitchen, the pale blue walls of the hallway feeling all the more gloomy around them for lack of light. Why Scathan was so keen on never turning on any lights, Beck would never understand. They had arcane energy. They had lamps. Sitting in the dark was such a waste, especially when </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> forgot to light the fire and the house got all chilly, leading to </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> using it as an excuse to sit in Beck’s lap, distracting them with his quiet snoring as they tried to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running a hand through their black hair, Beck sighed. The patch of white in it was just getting larger. It was probably necromantic in nature—casting without a demon wasn’t the best idea if one was going to start doing larger rituals on a regular basis. Really, though, what were a few more grey hairs. It wasn’t like they were losing anything of much value, and none of the other necros brought their familiars in with the frequency Beck brought Scathan. They didn’t need more bodies in their workspace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A rustle brought them back to the present. Ducking their head into the common area, Beck found the fire lit and a demon nestled up under the blankets, sitting against the wall. Well, that certainly wasn’t normal Scathan behavior. He should be conked out right now, snoring away in front of the fireplace, not huddling away from it in the furthest corner of the room like he was scared of the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scath? Everything okay?” Beck’s voice was soft, concerned. This was not typical Scathan behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a blush high up on his pale cheeks, all-black eyes flicking up to look at them. People often asked how Beck could tell where Scathan was looking, not that it was that hard, really. Yes, there was a telltale sign—he had a slightly darker ring at the center of his eye that was his iris, but no one really looked close enough or spent enough time with him to tell. In fact, people who </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> had found it insanely creepy, when combined with his quiet nature and curling horns, so similar to a ram’s, but eerily different. Or so Beck had been told. If anything, they found him endearing, mop of curly black hair and complaints. He was their demon, why would they find him scary?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at them with wide, worried eyes. “Did you get my medication yet? You promised you would last week, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Medication. What did… Beck had done that, didn’t they? They had picked up Scathan’s medication from the pharmacy last week—they still had a few more days until it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed, anyway, right? It would… it would be better if Beck knew what day it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now, but Scathan shouldn’t be too worried, it wasn’t critical yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last week, remember?” Leaning against the doorframe, Beck stretched their arms above their head, trying to loosen stiff muscles. “You could always get them from the pharmacy yourself, I don’t see why you need me for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, pressing closer to the wall. “The new manager doesn’t like me. Doesn’t believe your notes or my identification. Told me to get you to pick it up and I said ‘they’re really busy’ and he said ‘I don’t care’ and I said ‘but I need these’ and he—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right. I remember now.” That new manager was going to be a headache and a half. It would probably be a good idea to write a report of… something. To his superior or whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they gave you the wrong pills, for goat familiars.” Scathan continued, fists tight against the blanket. “Beck you promised you’d get them by yesterday and then you didn’t come home the day before or yesterday and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sniffle broke Beck’s heart. As soothingly as they could, they approached, sitting down in front of Scathan. He shrank down, anticipating a hit that would never come, eyes drifting to the floor. Really, he was spending too much time around familiars—Beck had never hit him and never would, it simply wasn’t in either of their natures. Sure, they would cajole him, tease him and all that, but Beck would never strike him. Most things learned best from positive reinforcement, people included.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, now. Come on, look at me.” Nice and easy and gentle, that was the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Black eyes drifted to their blue. Eye contact had been tough to work up to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, with telegraphed motions, Beck took his pinkie in theirs. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. It’s like—do you remember when we first started out? We still lived on the family complex and I was a stupid teenager and we pretended we hated each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, trust plain on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And remember that time you were napping under all those blankets and I accidentally stepped on your tail? You yelped and jerked up, so I slipped and fell so hard I broke my nose?” It was a dumb story, but it had been the catalyst for the two of them actually being able to work together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cried so hard I threw up.” A giggle ran through his voice as his mouth split into a small smile, faint but there. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beck nodded. “It’s like that. I’m sorry I didn’t come home, I lost track of time. I’ll be honest I thought it was a few days ago today. We’ve gone through your heat before, it’s nothing too bad, now is it? When did it start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a tease, but it eased Scathan’s expression some. He shifted under his sheets, a blush still riding high on his cheeks. “Yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, that’s, what? Four more days or so?” Beck kicked themselves. Forcing him to suffer a heat on his own was a horrible thing to do to Scathan, even for a day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, eyes drifting down across Beck’s form as his body demanded things of him. This must be insufferable to him. As they stood, they couldn’t help but watch the way his fingertips twitched. Demons were not known for their heats, but the ones further north had them on occasion. Not many places down here were familiar enough with demons to treat them, no pun intended, but even less knew how to control their hormone cycles with some measure of safety and efficacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you wearing anything under there?” From the way Scathan was clasping the blanket to his form, the answer was “no”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stuttering, he ducked his head down. “My pants were scratchy and tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine enough for me, think you can make it to the bedroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their demon shook his head quickly, breathing fast. Scents were bad for him at this time, and Beck hadn’t had the chance to wash the Academy off of them. The smell of everyone on their clothes was likely driving Scathan insane, the poor thing. Shrugging off their outer jacket, Beck watched as Scathan’s gaze followed the article of dark clothing as it fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can go and wash up, or we can do it like this. Your choice.” Resting their hands on their hips, Beck leaned their shoulder against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dilated eyes watched Beck. What a picture they must look, a treat on display. Their clothes hung off of them, long since obtained from friends or thrift stores. There was just no need to spend money on expensive things that were just going to get stained with all manner of bodily fluids, that was the thought they’d had in undergrad when they had initially obtained them. Nowadays, Beck had been able to snag things made for them as gifts, lovingly sewn as payment for favors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An old short sleeved black shirt hung off of their shoulders, exposing a bit of pale collarbone. It was a size or two too big, affectionately and accidentally stolen from Dire when he had asked for help with a ritual and Beck decided—foolishly—not to bring a spare change of clothes. Well, at least it was worn and warm and comfortable. They’d tucked it into black denim jeans—it hadn’t taken them long to realize wearing nice clothes to the necromancy department was the farthest thing from a good idea. There were tears here and there where bones and claws and spells had gone awry, but they still worked just fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scathan, the poor thing, was looking at them like he wanted to rip the clothes off. His breathing was ragged as he rose, the blanket falling to reveal his naked form. Well, Beck could certainly have worse things to look at. He was skinny, far too skinny for their liking, but they could dig out a recipe book and clumsily make (and burn) a cake later. It would be atrocious and borderline inedible, but both of them would choke it down and joke about how much better it was than their uncle’s cooking. That man could burn water without trying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were dark marks on Scathan’s limbs, like they had been dipped in ink until the elbows and knees, a thatch of hair trailing down from his chest. Beck could still see each of his ribs, as if he hadn’t eaten in years. All the demon did was sleep all day, where were the calories going? Muscles were outlined against bone, his hands ending in claws. Hm, they would have to file those down again, maybe sniff around for a scratching post that could handle a demon. It was such a pain for both of them when they grew out too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pale lips parted to reveal his mouth, completely black, the white of his teeth gleaming as his thin tail whipped behind him, the only outlet which he had for his excitement. It seemed that Beck wasn’t going anywhere tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rushing forward, control snapping, Scathan tightened his fingers in their shirt, holding them close as he pressed their lips to his. It was less a kiss so much as a clashing of mouths, their poor demon too far gone to have such fine motor control. Unbuttoning their pants, Beck let their jeans slip down to their thighs, the two of them not far apart for them to step out of the article of clothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it mattered to Scathan. With roughly gentle hands, he turned them around, pressing their chest into the wall as he shoved their pants down further. Beck could feel the tremor in his hands. The two of them had talked about this, about how Scathan was more than allowed to have his way with Beck if he needed to during one of his heats. The rough treatment was far from intentional and Beck knew he would need plenty of cuddles after this. Poor dear, he could never handle himself when he got like this. That had been the reason they got the medication in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scathan, it’s okay.” Beck soothed. “Just do what you need to, you’re allowed. Promise.” It certainly didn’t hurt that they were getting wet themselves, what with the pheromones having some, albeit limited, effects on humans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost reverently, Scathan pulled down their underwear, pushing their shirt up to cup the swell of their ass. He had callouses on his palms, fingers deceptively strong as he parted their legs, pressing his master tight to his waist as he dragged his cheeks across their back. Scent marking. Even horny to the point of insanity, he still wanted to make sure their scents mingled. He was Beck’s and Beck was his. How sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Careful so as not to gore them with his horns, Scathan pressed a kiss to their upper back. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” The answer was immediate. “You’re my demon, Scath, I’m going to take care of you, no matter what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beck could feel the way his heart sped up at that, his cock hard against their thigh. It was taking so much of him to hold back, to not hump against the soft, warm flesh under his hands. Had they been in his position, Beck likely wouldn’t have been able to resist. Even now he ground his dick against their ass, having long-since started leaking precum. He had probably been hard for hours, now. Longer, maybe, if he hadn’t been able to sate himself yesterday. There were only so many things he could thrust into at home that weren’t his master.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-may I?” How polite, well trained. It was adorable how, the moment Scathan was out of his right mind, all of his brattiness melted away like snow in the spring. “Please, may I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you may.” Beck’s voice was even as they leaned forward, bracing themselves on their arms. No use in smacking their face against the wallpaper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scathan made a noise of confirmation, pressing his member against Beck’s entrance, hands careful in handling sensitive skin. Scratching them down there would be… not ideal. The last thing Beck wanted was to go to the doctor and explain how they’d managed to get a cut between their legs, never mind the pain that could cause. Scathan would never let himself live that down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he entered them, he keened. This must have been the first satisfaction he’d felt in such a long time. Beck let themselves gasp, too. His cock was not the smallest in the world. Not the biggest, either, but larger than most Beck found themselves taking. Beck wasn’t… the most sexually active necromancer. Let’s put it at that. Most of the time, it was something for Dire, a ritual here and there, nothing particularly special. They got busy, it was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, Scathan began to thrust in earnest, body taking over his mind. He was so vocal, moans and cries and whimpers all mingling together in his throat to cry his pleasure out to the world. It made Beck very thankful that they didn’t have neighbors, especially as their own noises became mixed in the fray, little broken vowels that made people scared that they were hurt. Their demon was used to it, though, only rutting harder. Beck had never been particularly loud in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their demon’s mouth moved to kiss at their neck, hands holding Beck’s hips still. His “kisses” were more licks, than anything. Licks mixed in with bites and nips. Claiming bites, Beck’s brain helpfully supplied, were done when demons trusted and loved the person they were copulating with. Wasn’t that just adorable?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scath—” Beck groaned as one of his fingers strayed to their clit, carefully toying with it. “Scath, don’t leave marks above the collar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the response they got were pants, breathed against their skin and he kept on with what he was doing, moving faster, harder. It felt like their entire body was tight, on edge, waiting for a wave that was growing higher. Beck was going to be washed away like this, to the sound of Scathan growling and moaning in their ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their demon was breathing hard, fucking them against the wall with as much force as his body demanded. The sound of skin on skin was loud in the room as one of his hands edged up under their shirt, pressing them even tighter against him, forcing them to take him even deeper. The fog of arousal was growing thick, Beck knew they were wet enough that Scathan was having no trouble at all, pounding into them like they were a toy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was when he hit that oh so wonderful spot inside them that Beck truly moaned, a sound not oft used in their voice. With a grunt, Scathan took note, hammering that bit again and again, making sparks stutter in Beck’s eyes as their voice transmitted their arousal, their pleasure. He was bringing them close; it was impressive how he did that, fucking Beck’s brain out with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a cry, their legs turned to jelly as their insides clamped down tight on Scathan. He fucked them through their orgasm, shoving them into the wall harder, the vertical surface taking their weight. He wasn’t stopping, not when the pleasure turned to the blurry ache of overstimulation. Heats often brought stamina boosts. A satiated demon was a demon that was more likely to get pregnant, so stamina slowly grew longer with each generation. Fortunately or unfortunately for Beck, Scathan wasn’t going to be stopping yet, hand at their crotch using their own fluids as lube to tease their clit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like thinking through soup, their demon pressing all the right buttons to keep his master right where he wanted them to be. Beck’s eyes had long since unfocused, thoughts of what they needed to do later today, tomorrow, whenever “later” was being pounded out of their head with every thrust. They were going to have to introduce Scathan to a couple of concepts. He would have a field day with a vibrator, heat or no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, helped along by the pheromones, Beck could feel another orgasm building, an impossible need soaking the dark almost-fur of their demon’s crotch. Maybe they could arrange a playdate with a lust demon. That would probably be good for Scathan, get some of this pent-up energy out of his system. He’d stop bruising up their collarbone with his teeth, hopefully. The marks were going to be a pain to explain away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sounds had devolved into little whimpers, whatever semblance of a rhythm he’d started out with dissolving into fucking into them harder and faster, desperate to the point of mindlessness. The poor thing sounded like he was about to die, heart racing fast enough that Beck could guess it was the only thing he could hear. He always hated his heats, hated the loss of control, hated how needy he became. At least he had his master to take care of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His master, who was currently, moaning into the wall, cheek pressed against the cool wallpaper, letting themselves be rut into again and again. It just felt so good, the way their demon ravished them. Yes, a vibrator was likely a good idea, especially when he would want them to fuck him into the bed, bend him over a desk and draw all sorts of noises out of him as a “punishment” for how daring he was being right now. He would insist in a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A series of hoarse sounds marked their second coming, Scathan fucking into the tightness with a desperate need only rivaled by starving men. He fell silent, though, just gasping out as he buried himself deep into their cunt, stilling as he came. Hard breathing was heard in the silence, Beck held up only by their demon’s strong hands and the wall. Who needed to stand right now, especially when hot cum had just filled them. Even around the plug of Scathan’s dick, they could feel their own slick drying on their thighs. They had been a sloppy fuck, though when was Beck not a sloppy fuck. At least they hadn’t done it over carpet again. Architect, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>stains</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quietly, Scathan withdrew his softening cock, watching the way his release dripped down from Beck’s entrance to their pants. He had bred them like they were a demon. It was far from the way one should interact with their master. Beck could hear the lecture already, anxious to the sea and back about how they shouldn’t be so lax with him, how they should punish him, how they didn’t treat him like a proper demon. Hopefully he wouldn’t insist on a beating again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those bruises had taken a while to forget.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I…” His voice was ragged. It was adorable. “I’m sorry—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winded as they were, Beck managed to draw annoyance into their voice. “And just </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you sorry for? I gave you permission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have… I pressured you…” He dipped his head down, voice crackling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, but you didn’t, though.” Pushing themselves carefully off of the wall, Beck tested out if their legs were going to take weight or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All limbs working relatively properly. Perfect. Scathan backed up, still bowing his head as if he wasn’t still taller than Beck, hands clasped in front of him politely. Oh, he was such a dear, especially when he was tired and all turned around. Though, Beck had to say, they always missed his arguments when he got like this, his hardheadedness. This was the well-trained polite version of their demon, but they liked the original just fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a mess, too. They both were. His hair was all ruffled up and he was positively covered in sweat, his crotch soaked with slick. That was Beck’s fault. A tremor ran through him, as if he was scared when his hormones would surge again. Oh, the poor thing, they’d be making him some tea tonight and ordering in from his favorite place. That, or finding the energy in themselves to cook something up as they avoided grabby hands, eager for another round. Well, they had six hours or so before that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scath, why don’t you go draw a bath for us—and use the nice soaps.” Beck let themselves rest against the wall, hiding how much their legs were shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wide eyes blinked at them. “You said the nice soaps were for a special occasion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t this a special occasion?” A smile crossed their face. “I came home after a while and you fucked the living daylights out of me. I think that warrants the nice soaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an argument in his eyes, Scathan nodded, clawed feet tapping against the hardwood. At least the two of them would smell nice now, if Beck could convince him to let them wash his hair without much fuss. It was hard on him to do that thoroughly, what with the claws. Maybe they could even help him file those down themselves. The two of them hadn’t had a spa day in a while. His heat was a great time to actually convince him to let them take care of him, Scathan after an orgasm could be remarkably easily persuaded.</span>
</p>
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